


The Boy Who Runs With Wolves (Well, Just One, Really)

by stileskolpath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awesome Scott, College!AU, Derek Chases Stiles, M/M, Oblivious Derek, Running, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Sterek Running, Stiles Feels, Stiles Loves Derek, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 17:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stileskolpath/pseuds/stileskolpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stiles loved running. It was one of the only things that kept him sane during college. Every morning, ridiculously early (except weekends because _absolutely not_) he would get up earlier than should be allowed by law and lace up his running shoes, and go for a run around campus.</p><p>The cool air, the empty sidewalks, the occasional errant hot guy on his way to the gym, all of it was just… perfect.</p><p>And on those mornings when Derek would roll his sour-ass self out of bed to join him, they somehow got perfect-er."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Who Runs With Wolves (Well, Just One, Really)

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a prompt fill for the meme week that Amy Rose unofficially started. For Sourir (sourirwolf.tumblr.com), because she is awesome.
> 
> And apparently we are blood brothers or something.

Stiles loved running. It was one of the only things that kept him sane during college. Every morning, ridiculously early (except weekends because absolutely not) he would get up earlier than should be allowed by law and lace up his running shoes, and go for a run around campus.

The cool air, the empty sidewalks, the occasional errant hot guy on his way to the gym, all of it was just… perfect.

And on those mornings when Derek would roll his sour-ass self out of bed to join him, they somehow got perfect-er.

Shut up, it’s a word. It was also more like _every_ morning. Derek was a surprisingly early riser.

Anyway, on those mornings, the pair would jog around the amoeba-like circle of roads that bound the whole school, occasionally talking about life, classes, and the fact that it was nice to be away from the supernatural Mecca that was Beacon Hills.

Of course, being ‘away’ and ‘not having to worry about it ever’ were two entirely different things.

Hence the running. And the probably-not-a-good-idea-to-do-in-public-but-definitely-necessary-when-you-are-being-chased-down-by-a-hungry-werebeast game that they liked to play called ‘chase the human’.

After they completed their loop, they would stop, do some stretches, and walk into the arboretum, the small acreage of woods that bordered the school on the north side that was packed with trails, nature info posts, and was almost an exact replica of the Beacon Hills Preserve. They would walk to the center-ish part of it, where most of the trails converged, and Derek would give Stiles a thirty-second head-start to get as far away from him as possible.

And then Derek would give chase. The whole point was that Stiles had to get to the center of campus before Derek caught him.

It usually ended with frantic yelling, sprinting, and on more than one occasion, accidentally slide-tackling an unsuspecting sorority girl outside her dorm as Stiles tried to get away from the half wolfed-out alpha hot on his heels.

It was a fun game. And a necessity, at times.

But today was a shit morning for Stiles. Because he and Derek were supposed to have dinner last night. Only that didn’t happen. Derek had flaked out on him.

Stiles was at the restaurant. He had put on his best button-down. He had combed his hair. He had wanted to look good. Because it was finally the night when he was going to tell Derek how he felt. How he had felt for the last three years, actually.

But Derek didn’t show. Stiles had waited. After an hour of checking his phone, and looking pathetic at the waitress while he scarfed down appetizer bread, he had given up and gone back to his dorm. He checked his phone again. Still nothing.

When he finally went to bed, he pressed the lock button, to see if any messages popped up. They didn’t. Stiles turned over, and went to sleep, glaring at the wall next to his pillow.

The next morning, when Derek didn’t show for their usual run, Stiles had scowled at the ground, checked his phone absentmindedly, and started on his lap, his ipod blaring Breaking Benjamin and Three Days’ Grace as he plodded around campus.

Three miles and twenty-five minutes later, Stiles was back to where he started, breathing heavily, hands on his waist, when he looked across the road at the small expanse of woods of the arboretum.

And he didn’t know why he did it. He didn’t know why he crossed the street. It was a stupid, dumbass decision, and Stiles knew, just knew, that he was going to regret it.

He kicked himself all the way up the trail for being so goddamn hopelessly romantic. Because part of him was hoping, somehow, that Derek would be there, at their usual spot, waiting for him.

And sure enough, there he was. He was sitting against a tree, fingering blades of grass he had plucked from the ground around him. Stiles stopped just out of sight, his heart fluttering stupidly in his chest as he decided whether or not it was a good idea to step out from behind the bush.

Derek answered that question for him. “I can hear you, Stiles.”

Stiles froze on the spot. His passive-aggressive streak took over, and he refused to budge, despite the obvious awareness that Derek had of his presence.

"I can smell you, too." Stiles inadvertently sniffed his collar before he remembered. Oh, right, werewolf. He was just about to step out, when Derek spoke again. “Don’t make me find you. Because I will. You are going to talk to me.” And Stiles got a brilliant, evil idea.

He bolted. Back towards school. He was almost back to the road when he heard the muffled snarl and the snag of tree branches on leather. And he almost laughed, until he caught Derek’s red eyes gleaming at him as he scrambled up the path behind him.

Then Stiles ran like his life depended on it, his instincts kicking in.

He was almost back to the center of campus when he heard Derek roar his name. Luckily there weren’t a lot of people around to hear it, or see the clearly-wolfed-out Derek in all his werewolf glory.

The local bird, population, decided it was too real, and hauled ass from every tree on the quad.

Stiles skidded to a halt. “What?” He more or less yelled in answer to Derek’s roar.

Derek Hale came to a stop two feet in front of Stiles, panting heavily and bracing against his knees.

"Had to… catch you… need… to talk," he heaved as he lifted his head, shaking dizziness from it. There were somethings that werewolfishness couldn’t fix, Stiles guessed. Like endurance.

Stiles was still pissed though, and as much as adorably-exhausted-I-just-ran-through-the-fucking-woods-to-catch-you Derek threatened to undo his resolve, Stiles was as stubborn as he was pissed.

"Yeah, about what?" He crossed his arms over his chest, giving Derek an I-don’t-have-time-for-this look.

Derek had begun to recover. “Last… night… why I was…” he swallowed, “… late.”

Stiles’ eyebrows betrayed his surprise before slipping right back into righteously indignant. “Late, LATE? You didn’t show up AT ALL. You ditched me, Derek. I waited an hour. AN HOUR. You weren’t la-“

Derek held up a hand, his breath returning to him as he shifted back. “I was, actually. I- Scott called.”

The news that Stiles’ best friend called Derek instead of him made him curious, at the very least, if not completely jealous. He turned away from the werewolf who was clearly trying to ruin his life.

"Oh? And what did the traitor want?" Stiles bit out icily.

"A rogue pack attacked the high school. He needed my help to track them down. I had to drive back to Beacon Hills yesterday afternoon."

"Too bad you didn’t just stay there." Stiles retorted, hurt evident on his voice. The worst part was, he couldn’t even tell Derek why.

"That’s not fair. It wasn’t my fault that it took longer than expected. Scott even apologized when I told him I had plans. When I told him they were with you, his eyes got all wide."

Stiles turned, slightly, his heart slamming away against his ribcage. Derek’s next words would determine whether or not he died right on the spot.

"He wouldn’t tell me why, but he kept insisting that I leave. That he could take it from there, that I needed to get back as soon as possible. he was freaking me out, and I got way angrier than I should have. I kind of wolfed-out on him a little. I just wanted to know why."

Yup, Stiles was going to die. Burst into flames, right then and there. He could feel his ears grow hot in preparation. He turned a little more.

"Stiles he told me everything. I’m so, so sorry. I drove back as quickly as I could." He reached up and turned the human to face him, a firm hand on his shoulder. Stiles bored holes into the ground, willing it to swallow him up. "But when I got to the restaurant, and gave the waitress your description, she said you had left already. So I went to your apartment, and was all set to go in, but you were sleeping, and I- I didn’t want to wake you." He paused, dropping his own gaze as Stiles’ resistance began to falter. "It was too late to go back to my place to sleep, so I parked in the garage where we usually start and waited. But," Derek looked up, his eyes pleading with Stiles, "I fell asleep. When I woke up and realized how late it was, I rushed out here, but you had already started your run. So I went to the arboretum, hoping you would show up after you finished. I just- I had to talk to you. Then, when you ran, I wanted- I needed to catch you."

He reached down and grasped Stiles’ wrist, and to Stiles’ surprise, he let it happen. He took the other one too. “I had to tell you. I love you too. I always have. From the moment I saw you in the woods, the night after Peter bit Scott.”

Stiles’ face flushed a lobster-red, hot and prickly. So Scott had told him everything. He made a mental note to kill him later. Or kiss him. He wasn’t sure yet.

Derek continued, ducking down to meet Stiles’ eyes. “Look, I know you are mad at me, and you probably won’t ever want to say it,” he sighed, and the sound faltered for the briefest of seconds, enough to make Stiles’ chest tighten from the sheer adorableness of it. “But I had to say it, just knowing that you wanted to tell me the same thing, I couldn’t- I just- it’s you and me and- I didn’t-” Stiles reached a hand up to the werewolf’s jaw, finally meeting his glassy-eyed gaze before Derek breathed out,

"I didn’t want to miss my chance." Somewhere deep inside Stiles’ soul, something cracked. The stubborn anger he was holding on to about Derek ditching him came down like a house of cards in a hurricane.

That was all Stiles needed to close the distance between them and crash his lips against Derek’s with frantic desperation. Because not only did Derek feel the same way, he chased Stiles halfway across the campus, hell, the state, to tell him so. Without thinking, Stiles sucked in a breath through his nose, his hands pulling Derek deeper into his mouth. He had wanted this, needed it, for so long, that he didn’t even feel it when Derek wrapped his solid arms around his waist and hauled him closer, grinding their hips together ruthlessly.

As Derek worried at his bottom lip, Stiles made a sound he wasn’t proud of. And Derek growled in response, his lips moving down over the human’s jaw to suck a aching, sore bruise into the skin over his throat.

It took every bit of self-control Stiles had to pull Derek’s mouth away from his skin.

“I love you too, you fool.” He smiled, enjoying the electric feeling of Derek’s lips coursing through his nervous system. “But if you are really going to make it up to me, we need to go back to my apartment. Because public indecency laws, and…” He looked down, erection visibly throbbing against his workout shorts. “…other reasons.” Derek couldn’t suppress a smile as he pulled Stiles towards him, and ground up against his hips as he kissed him again.

“That is sooo not fair,” Stiles intoned as Derek pulled back. “You know what, I’ll make you a deal. I will forgive you completely for ditching me last night, and let you have a good time, many, many times, several times in a row, in several different positions if,” he paused for effect, because showmanship is everything, “if you can catch me.”

And he bolted again, his high, clear laughter echoing in Derek’s ears as he sprinted after him.

Because there was no way he wouldn't chase Stiles to the ends of the earth if he had to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave comments and kudos!
> 
> And check out my blog: watchthewolvesrun.tumblr.com


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